Page 40 of Wraith

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Wakingin a sea of blankets I take in a deep breath. The bedding no longer smells of her and I curse myself once again that she isn’t here.She had to get out.But killing her wasn’t in the plan. Shaking thoughts of Lara’s soft body under mine, I stand from the bed and ready myself for another day. My muscles pop as I lift my arms over my head, stretching the sleepless night from my back. Each day has blended into the next with the streak of blood tainting each one with greed and power.Mygreed and power. I have become the thing Roman molded me into. A killing machine and his second in command. The person who deals more in the business than he does.The business. Fuck this business. Even though I hardly take orders anymore doesn’t mean I’m free of this life. If anything, it has embeded me further into itshell.

Lara’s face haunts me every day. Smacking my hand against my cheek I quickly get dressed, why the haste I have no idea. Roman no longer lives at the compound. Like I said I’m his right-hand man. I’m the boss now. The black hearted fucker incharge.

Each day begins the same. A run through of inventory. Fucking inventory. As in Women. How many we have in the basement. How many are ready to be sold, and how many we need to dispose of. “One found a way to off herself last night, boss,” Georgie, my newest recruit says, handing me a clipboard detailing his report. The fucker is thorough, if only he would have strived to better himself in a differentfield.

“Is that right?” I say only half hearing his explanation. I know damn well the woman didn’t off herself as he claims. “Take me to the body,” I demand handing the clipboard back to him not waiting for him to show the way. I only assume the body is still in thecell.

“Yes. Of course. I would but,ah—”

“Quit stuttering and spit it the fuck out,Georgie.”

“Heckle disposed of her already, sir. He is the one who found her.” This halts my steps.Heckle.One of the men Roman hired on before he handed the reigns over to me. I have had problems with him fucking with the women before, nearly killing two of them. I guess he succeeded this timearound.

“I see.” I pause. Regarding good ole’ Georgie. He’s tall, lanky with hardly any muscle on him and looks as if he may have been living in his mother’s basement before moving into ours. No more than twenty I can’t place why the poor fucker is here. “After feeding them today, make sure they all get a bath,” I instruct, leaving him to go and find Heckle. I might not be able to stop the trade altogether, but I can give the women more luxury that they have received in the past. Such as more than one meal a day, clothes and a blanket to sleep in. Also a bath every couple days. It doesn’t make anything better though. I’m still a monster and will always beone.

Walking through the yard of the compound I find Heckle right where I knew he would be—gauging the size of his prick in the training ring. The fucker might be bulky with more muscle than a brahma bull, but he is slow as fuck. I stop by the group of men shouting out jabs and encouragement to the two men sparing, Heckle and Francis. Both evenly paired but two good punches and Francis goes down, hands covering his bloodied face. “Heck!” I call out, stopping the cheering that goes out among the guys. They all immediately take note as to who is now in their presence. My authority is rarely challenged but every now and then— “You have yourself a little unsanctioned fun last night?” I ask, stepping past the small crowd and over Francis to stand face to face with Heckle. He doesn’t waver. Almost as if he is proud for killing the woman. But he is about to deny that little fact in three,two—

“Of course not, boss. The women aren’t to be touched.” He insults me by opening his mouth. Bad fucking move,Heckle.

“That so? You are telling me that she just what? Strangled herself?” He pales slightly letting me know that’s how he killed her. I assumed as much since the two before were nearly killed the sameway.

“Boss—” My hand flies up, slapping him across theface.

“Insulting me? Right here in front of everyone?” I shout, slapping him again when he recovers and tries to answer. “Come on, you like to fight. Come at me!” I taunt, getting him to lunge forward. I move too quick for the bulked-up meat head and he flails past me nearly landing on his face. He rounds on me again, swinging this time. I dodge and land a swift hit to his abdomen that completely winds him. He drops to his knees clutching his chest trying to breathe once again. “Big man now?” I laugh in his face grabbing the hair on his head and pulling his face to look up at me. “I should make you suck my cock right here in front of everyone, force you to do something you don’t want to do. How does that sound?” He shakes his head sobbing now at mythreat.

“Please don’t,boss.”

“I bet she said that, too.” With my free hand, I reach to my back and pull out the seven-inch serrated blade I keep tucked away and bring it right to the base of his throat. He wails at my actions and tries to back away but I hold him steady and shove the knife in, cutting off any air he may have filling his lungs, and pull back quickly, letting him drop to the dirt. “Anyone else so much as looks at a woman from the basement, worse will happen to you. Take care of this shit,” I order and head back toward the basement, to Roman’s office that is nowmine.

I leave the door open as I go inside and drop to the new chair I had brought in, not wanting to have the one the fat prick sat in for so many years. I find myself looking at the corner he kept Lara in. Each and every day I would come into this very fucking office and pretend I didn’t see her hunched up in that very corner, her dog bowl of water near her feet. My teeth grit together at the memory. The regret and shame that comes with it has me going for the phone I hardly ever take the time of day to look at. After that fucking list was taken and went dark, my plan to take down this fucking empire Roman built got put on the back burner as this life of shit and piss took me over. I haven’t spoken to or heard from Kinkaid in years, but I do know he came out of hiding when Doyle turned up dead. Courtesy of the man they callWraith.

The phone is heavy in my hand. Last time I checked it was over a year ago when I contemplated eating my own bullet after turning it on and seeing that it once again had no alerts of the list being opened. Today will most likely be no different. Frustration grows when I find it doesn’t turn on. The battery is dead. Some damnluck.

Plugging it in I take out the bottle of Jack I keep tucked in my bottom drawer and take a swig straight from thebottle.

Ding.

The noise has me nearly jumping on the fucking phone. Flicking it open my jaw nearly drops. One week. One fucking week ago someone tried hacking into the files, and succeeded. “Chicago.” Still in fucking Chicago. But a different location. Some apartment above a—Chinese restaurant? The fuckinghell?

I scroll through the phone and find the number I’m looking for and hit send, not knowing if he will still be at this number. “Detective Kinkaid.” Soofficial.

“Its detective now? Moving up in the world I see. Coming back from the dead agrees with you.” He doesn’t answer right away but I can hear him breathing over the other end so I know he hasn’t hung up onme.

“Wraith. You son of a bitch,” he hisses into the phone causing a dry chuckle to crawl up mythroat.

“The one andonly.”

“The fuck do youwant?”

“Not a thing,detective. I was only giving a courtesy call. I happen to know where a very large chunk of information is. If you are still interested, thatis.”

“I bet you do. What do you want thistime?”

“Just afavor.”

“Yeah,” he says dryly, “and what would thatbe.”

“I’m not sure yet, but I will settle for an IOU. Now, have you ever heard of The Hell’sRiders?”

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